


Laws of Attraction

by notmykink



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Biting, Light Bondage, M/M, Marking, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rivalry, Rough Sex, also sort of lmao, mild crying kink, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 15:57:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11165181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notmykink/pseuds/notmykink
Summary: “What—what do you want from me, then?” Iwaizumi asks warily.“I don’t want anythingfromyou,” Oikawa walks over, pressing his pointer finger against Iwaizumi’s chest pocket, hooking it into the pocket as he leans in. “I wantyou."





	Laws of Attraction

**Author's Note:**

> hahah the title was just an uncreative last choice bc i was like haha! law and lawyers, even tho they're different kinds of 'laws' lmao, and i thought it was kinda fun that iwa actually does the opposite of what the law of attraction says and he somehow still attracts oikawa. heh
> 
> this is purely me procrastinating studying for my own law exams, so sorry if its horrible. more pointless pwp c:  
> also don't actually. expect any correct or relevant law terms i rly just said fuck it and went for the smut, ok.
> 
> me when starting out: haha, this is just a tiny one night stand pwp, maybe i can keep it at like 2.5k this time!!  
> me later: cries into hands
> 
> i would attempt to edit it? but then it got out of hand and now its too long for me to bother. sorry

“You can’t seriously tell me that you disagree, it’s  _ obvious _ that they’re in the wrong,” Iwaizumi says, pointing down at the open folder in front of him with enough proof for even a average lawyer to be able to see that the company is breaking the contract. He’s already worked up, in a bad mood, and feeling stuffy despite how airy Oikawa’s enormous office is, wary because as a defense lawyer, for Oikawa to invite the prosecutor over for coffee or a meeting or whatever the hell it is that Oikawa is planning on without also inviting company representatives is suspicious in itself. 

Oikawa leans in over the table, his face turned down towards the folder as if he’s actually going to take a look, but instead he just leans into Iwaizumi’s vicinity, giving him that dangerous, almost ravenous smile that Iwaizumi has  _ really _ come to hate over the past few weeks of working together - or more precisely,  _ against _ each other. It doesn’t help that Oikawa’s smile is almost always directed at him, as if it’s Iwaizumi specifically the one he’s out after destroying. 

“Of course I agree with you,” Oikawa replies, reaching out to close the folder and turning from where he’s sitting at the side of the table towards Iwaizumi.

“Then why—“ Iwaizumi begins to ask, standing up and leaning in - bad choice, he thinks, because they’re already close enough, and the way Oikawa’s smile cocks up in one side only makes him angrier - before Oikawa cuts him off with a casual wave, still leaned in over the table towards him.

“I’m a lawyer, Iwa-chan, I don't care who's right. It’s my job to help my  _ client," _ Oikawa says, and, well, he’s not  _ wrong _ per se. Iwaizumi hasn’t spent that many years in law school and then at work without realising how the legal industry changed people, turned them from justice-seeking, hopeful students to greedy and amoral businessmen, more interested in money than upholding the law.

“You bastard,” Iwaizumi hisses, leaning back and taking a step back to get Oikawa out of his personal space. Oikawa just grins, still sitting up against his desk and smiling widely, sizing up Iwaizumi like he’s already got him all figured out. 

“Mmm, but there may be a way… for you to talk me into handing over the case,” Oikawa says, reaching down for the folder and holding it up, opening and swiping through the pages as if he’s actually interested in it, pursing his lips as he waits for the words to sink in with Iwaizumi.

“Huh?” is all Iwaizumi can ask, because while he had a lot of opinions about Oikawa Tooru - a lot of not so nice ones too - he hadn’t expected him to be one to accept bribery. Or outright  _ offering _ the option.

“I’m successful enough, I don’t  _ need _ this win,” Oikawa says, shrugging with the kind of nonchalance that only a top lawyer at his level, with his winning rate can manage, giving Iwaizumi another smile from his repertoire that he has gotten to know over the last period of time, the one he hates almost as much as the first one, because it’s even faker and so  _innocent-_ looking, contrasting Oikawa’s actual personality _. _

“What—what do you want from me, then?” Iwaizumi asks, unsure about what to do in a situation like this, because Iwaizumi doesn’t  _ do _ bribery **.** That’s the whole fucking point - he’s an honest guy who wants the  _ right _ thing to happen. That’s why he became a lawyer, not to join in on this sick power game that Oikawa seems to be so good at.

“I don’t want anything  _ from _ you,” Oikawa walks over, pressing his pointer finger against Iwaizumi’s chest pocket, hooking it into the pocket as he leans in. “I want  _ you.” _

Iwaizumi pulls away, grabs his folder and leaves Oikawa alone in his office. He doesn’t look back, too busy fighting the blush creeping up in his cheeks, but relieved that Oikawa doesn’t follow him with a threat or another suggestive comment. Only when he finally enters the elevator to the ground floor, he lets himself turn around and look at Oikawa, and the figure moping at him in surprise from exactly the spot Iwaizumi left him is the  _ only _ good thing Iwaizumi brings with him from that meeting.

 

Iwaizumi manages to push Oikawa’s proposal out of his mind until the next hearing - or at least that’s what he tells himself - but after getting absolutely  _ roasted _ by an arrogant Oikawa, who somehow seems even  _ more _ aggressive than usual, his arguments as flawless as ever, Iwaizumi is furious, frustrated, and worked up. It didn’t help that seemingly every single glance or smirk from Oikawa seemed to be directed at him either. When the day is finally over, Iwaizumi tries to leave the court as soon as possible, turning around at the door to see Oikawa surrounded by people demanding his attention, staring after him. 

 

Iwaizumi does as most other Japanese working men enjoy to do after a particularly rough day at work, especially after a long and rough day at work - he gets drunk. He joins some colleagues at a local bar at first, but then moves on alone to another place for something stronger, too antsy to go home but unsure of  _ why _ he’s feeling like that. The answer is delivered to him right as his second glass of whiskey is served when his phone vibrates in his pocket.

**Unknown number:** Have you thought about my offer?  
  


Iwaizumi frowns down at his phone, looking at the phone number that he doesn’t recognise, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach - he’s pretty sure he knows who it is. He should ignore the message, yet...

**Iwaizumi:** Who is this?  
  
**Unknown number:** … Iwa-chan, did you not save my number?  
  
**Iwaizumi:** Bye  
  
**Unknown number:** Iwa-chan, please!  
  
**Unknown number:** You looked so sad today, I just want to make you come and cheer you up~  
  
**Iwaizumi:** Come?  
  


He regrets the message the second he presses send, knowing exactly what Oikawa meant by it, blaming the quickening of his heartbeat on the alcohol. Definitely just the alcohol. He doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want Oikawa.

**Unknown number:** Where are you? I’ll come pick you up ;)  
  


Iwaizumi thinks for a moment, taking another sip from his glass. He puts the phone into his pocket instead of replying and continues drinking, trying to focus all of his thoughts on the glass in front of him. It works, until it’s empty and he has to order a new one. He pulls out his phone and stares at it tentatively for a second, then he thinks of his options. Go home and go to bed in a foul mood or… Maybe figure out  _ something _ with Oikawa about the case, or at least release some of his worked up tension, also with Oikawa. Sure, Oikawa is attractive. But he also manages to get on every single one of Iwaizumi’s nerves, but Iwaizumi would be lying if that wasn’t exactly one of the reasons Oikawa is so fucking captivating. He sends Oikawa the name of the bar, reaching out for the new glass of whiskey on the table in front of him, drinking from it.

His phone vibrates before he’s even finished with his last glass and pulls it out of his pocket, reading the text.

**Unknown number:** I’m outside~  
  


Iwaizumi gets up, paying his bill to the bartender before grabbing his briefcase and exiting the bar, looking around for Oikawa. He’s easy to spot, standing up against his car - a black, sleek one, obviously a new, expensive model of some European brand Iwaizumi doesn’t know as well. Oikawa looks like something taken out of a movie or a fashion magazine, and Iwaizumi’s usual urge to hit him is mixed with something new, something else. Desire. Maybe the feeling isn’t as new as he likes to think, maybe it was there all along - he was just better at burying it under his annoyance, a whole different kind of passion.

Oikawa looks up, smiling widely as if he’s  _ actually  _ happy to see Iwaizumi, straightening up so he’s no longer leaning up against his car, opening the passenger door with a smile.

“Well, hello Iwa-chan!” he sing-songs, leaning up against the opened door instead, motioning with a hand for Iwaizumi to enter.

“Nice car, suits you,” Iwaizumi says, pursing his lips as he walks over to him, lifting his briefcase up to put it in the car before sitting down.

“Wait—” Oikawa grabs his blazer, keeping him from actually doing so as he leans in, an eyebrow raised. “Was that a  _ compliment _ ?” 

“No, it’s showy, shiny and too much, just like you,” Iwaizumi says, sending Oikawa the widest smile he can, not trying to hide his sarcasm.

“Mmm, you’re drunk,” Oikawa states, raising an eyebrow as he lets go of Iwaizumi’s blazer slowly.

“Amazing observation, I see why you chose to become a lawyer,” Iwaizumi says, rolling his eyes as he bows down, putting the briefcase on the floor of the car before he turns to sit down in the car, but Oikawa reaches out for him again, this time just putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re drunk, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, for the first time sounding actually serious.

“Oh, but it’s fine when I’m sober?” Iwaizumi asks. Oikawa smirks down at him and it’s enough of an answer. 

Iwaizumi reaches up and grabs his collar, ignoring how the fabric of his probably super expensive shirt gives in in a way it shouldn’t under his grip, too drunk to care about ruining expensive suits, pulling Oikawa closer, their faces right in front of each other. “I want it.  _ Now,” _ Iwaizumi orders, and this time Oikawa closes the rest of the distance between them, pressing their lips together in a rough kiss, their teeth clacking slightly when they both open their mouths to deepen the kiss. Oikawa reaches up, cradling Iwaizumi’s neck and tilting his head to the side as he presses his tongue inside Iwaizumi’s mouth. Then, he pulls back instantly, grabbing the car door with both hands for support.

“Get in the car,” Oikawa orders and Iwaizumi leans back against the car for breath before doing as told, looking up at Oikawa who closes the door before walking over to the other side, sitting down in the driver’s seat and turning on the engine hastily, instantly driving off like he’s in a hurry.

Iwaizumi leans back in the leather-coated comfortable seat, not at all weirded out by the strange atmosphere as Oikawa tensely drives home, staring straight ahead. Iwaizumi suddenly starts wondering if this was a bad idea. Oikawa has had a certain air of dominance around him from the start, and it had both made Iwaizumi more attracted to him and slightly repelled at first. Oikawa challenging him, constantly getting on his nerves, turned out to be a surprisingly big turn off for Iwaizumi, but now that he’s sitting in the car with him alone, Oikawa seems like he’s trying just a bit less, his annoying façade turned down a bit.

“You seem different,” Iwaizumi blurts out, leaning to the side and tilting his head to look at Oikawa, who shrugs indifferently, eyes still on the road.

“I’m trying to restrain myself,” Oikawa hums calmly, the air of superiority still over him, except more strained. It bothers Iwaizumi - how he went from kissing him with such passion to seemingly indifferent, so he leans in, intruding on Oikawa’s personal space just like Oikawa loves to do so much himself.

“From what?” Iwaizumi asks, and Oikawa finally turns to look at him, smirking and staring right back into his eyes.

“Stopping the car at the side of the road and just doing it with you right here and now,” Oikawa says, calmly, before returning his eyes to the road in front of them. Iwaizumi’s mouth goes dry, an uncomfortable sensation when the taste of whiskey still lingers on his tongue.

“That—that would be—” he tries to find words, but no actual answer escapes his mouth before Oikawa cuts him off.

“Not enough,” Oikawa says, exhaling deeply. “It’s not enough,” he repeats, and Iwaizumi looks at his knuckles whiten as his hold around the steering wheel tightens.

 

They  _ finally _ arrive at Oikawa’s apartment which, to be fair, isn’t at all that far away from the bar, and they enter the building quickly, Oikawa waving to the receptionist as they walk past into the elevator, turning around at the same time as Oikawa presses a button for one of the top floors.

The elevator closes and the temperature in the tiny room suddenly seems to rise 10 degrees within seconds. The air feels slightly electric and Oikawa stands next to him, close enough for Iwaizumi to reach over and touch him, but he doesn’t do it, instead staring straight ahead, waiting for them to arrive at the right floor or for Oikawa to do something, tightening his hold around the handle of his bag.

Nothing happens, only building the tension further as the elevator pings, the door opening at Oikawa’s floor. Both of them walk out the door with long, hasty steps, Oikawa already pulling out his keys before they’re at the door. Iwaizumi keeps his arms by his sides, feeling weird about doing nothing at all, wanting to do  _ something _ , but nothing happens and he just watches Oikawa open the door without even looking at him, stepping inside the apartment. Iwaizumi follows, taking off his shoes in the genkan as Oikawa closes the door after him, and when Iwaizumi turns to look at Oikawa and check his apartment, he’s shoved up against the wall roughly, Oikawa’s lips on his as he grabs Iwaizumi’s briefcase from his hand, putting it in the floor of the hallway before leaning back up again, both of his hands forcefully pulling Iwaizumi’s blazer down over his shoulders. Oikawa presses his tongue into Iwaizumi’s mouth before he can even open it himself, not letting the blazer go until it’s completely off Iwaizumi’s arms, falling to the floor. Then he reaches up, and grabs Iwaizumi’s face in both hands, pressing his face to the side and deepening the kiss, sucking at Iwaizumi’s tongue greedily, barely giving Iwaizumi a chance at kissing back.

Oikawa then pulls back slightly, grabbing Iwaizumi by the tie and pulling him inside the apartment - it’s big, nicely decorated and modern, not unlike how Iwaizumi had thought, but it feels sort of empty, impersonal **.**

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Oikawa asks, pulling him inside the bedroom and letting go of the tie before bowing down, cupping Iwaizumi’s cock through his trousers with one hand and opening his belt with the other.

“ _ Haa _ -huh?” Iwaizumi asks, his cock already half-hard in his pants at just the idea of what’s to come, too unfocused to listen properly to Oikawa.

“Since the moment I saw you,” Oikawa says, pulling off the belt and pressing down the trousers, straightening his back up and leaning in to kiss Iwaizumi again, biting at his lower lip as he pulls down Iwaizumi’s pants. Oikawa leans back from the kiss again, kneeling to pull off Iwaizumi’s trousers completely and Iwaizumi lifts his legs to help him, opening his shirt in the process.

“You’re—you’re still dressed,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa looks up at his face just as he hooks his fingers into the elastic band of his trousers, pulling them down and freeing his erection.

“Amazing observation,” Oikawa hums, and it takes Iwaizumi a few seconds to realise that he’s quoting him before Oikawa leans in, taking the tip of his cock into his mouth. Iwaizumi reaches down and grabs his hair, mostly for balance, hissing when Oikawa pulls his mouth off, instead licking down his entire shaft to slick it with saliva. “So, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa begins, looking up at him through his eyelashes as he holds Iwaizumi’s dick in his hand, pressing it against his cheek and sticking out his tongue to lick at it. Iwaizumi has to look away, the hold in his hair tightening. “How do you feel about being tied down?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi’s cock  _ shouldn’t _ fucking react to that, but that’s exactly the place he feels excitement at the words, the muscles in his abdomen tightening.

Iwaizumi isn’t used to this. He’s never been tied up by anyone, in fact he’s usually the one holding people down, but when Oikawa pulls back, standing up grabbing Iwaizumi’s shoulders as he guides him over to the bed, no words escape his mouth and he does exactly as directed.

“Take off your boxers before lying down,” Oikawa says, his voice still light and teasing, but Iwaizumi does as said, his thoughts still swimming around in his head as he tries to figure out what the hell is going to happen and why he’s so fucking excited for it. As he lies down, Oikawa  _ does _ finally open his own belt and trousers, elegantly treading out of them before loosening his tie, watching for Iwaizumi’s reaction. “You could probably loosen this up without much fight so that’s fine, right?” he asks, grabbing Iwaizumi’s hands and pulling them up, closer together as he ties them without Iwaizumi actually having answered. “But please don’t actually  _ break _ the tie, it’s expensive,” Oikawa adds with a smirk, letting go of Iwaizumi’s tied hands before stepping back and letting Iwaizumi lie down on the bed alone, hands now tied in front of him.

Oikawa then opens his shirt, starting with the cuffs at his wrists as he looks down at Iwaizumi on the bed, eyes dark.

“You’re really fucking slow,” Iwaizumi comments, leaning his head back onto the pillow and looking up at the ceiling. Oikawa chuckles from the side and Iwaizumi hears fabric falling to the floor. When he looks back at Oikawa, he’s crouching in over the bed, the weight of the mattress sinking under his knees, and his upper body is bare. He has the same smirk on his lips, predatory and dangerous, and Iwaizumi wants to wipe it off his face. With his lips. He reaches up, but the tie tightens around his wrists, reminding him of the situation he’s in, and Oikawa leans over, reaching in under his chin with two fingers, forcing him to look up again.

“I’m going to show you exactly how slow I can be, Iwa-chan,” he purrs, leaning in further and sliding the hand down Iwaizumi’s bare chest instead before grabbing the tie around his wrists, pulling his hands up over Iwaizumi’s head. 

“You know how it goes, right?” Oikawa asks, opening the tie again, only to tie his hands to the headboard of the bed over his head, making him unable to pull his hands back down. Iwaizumi looks up at him in confusion, earning a chuckle from Oikawa. “Red is stop, yellow is slow down, green is continue,” Oikawa licks his lips, sliding his hand down Iwaizumi’s chest again, stalling right under his navel above his happy trail **,** “or were you maybe expecting a gentle lover?”

“Fucking come at me,” Iwaizumi hisses, leaning forward, but the hand on his stomach is instantly on his chest, pushing him back down to lie on the bed.

“Calm down, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, tilting his head to the side as he leans back, pressing Iwaizumi’s legs apart, leaving his completely naked body open and bared, his cock hard and still shiny with saliva. Oikawa crawls over to the bedstand, reaching into the drawer and pulling out a flask of lube and a condom, turning to Iwaizumi with a smirk. “Relax,” he says as he crawls back next to Iwaizumi’s thigh, putting down the condom and pouring lube over his fingers. “You’re not used to this, are you?” 

“What?” Iwaizumi asks, breathing in and forcing himself to relax, looking up at the ceiling again. Anywhere but at Oikawa’s hands. Oikawa is right, he  _ isn’t _ used to it, but it’s not like this is the first time for him either. It has just been… a while.  Oikawa leans in over him to get into his view again, giving him a surprisingly genuine smile. Iwaizumi’s entire body jerks when Oikawa’s lube-slick finger grazes over his thigh, cold to the touch.

“Oops, sorry,” Oikawa hums, his eyes flickering between looking at Iwaizumi’s face and between his legs as he reaches his hand up, his finger sliding over his entrance and slicking it with lube, still too cold to be completely comfortable. Iwaizumi grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut when Oikawa’s finger slides upwards, teasing at the line of skin between his balls and entrance before sliding the finger down again, suddenly pressing against Iwaizumi’s rim and entering him. Oikawa bows down his head to Iwaizumi’s chest, trailing kisses down to his nipple before letting his teeth graze over it carefully. Iwaizumi focuses on calming his own breathing.

The feeling of Oikawa’s finger pressing inside him is weird - not unwelcome, but different, something he hasn’t experienced in forever, and he’s unsure exactly how it feels, too distracted by the feeling of being stretched out, his cock demanding attention but not getting any and the lips sliding up and pressing against his neck instead, biting down, the same second the finger presses deeper inside.

Oikawa leans back, tilting his head in over Iwaizumi again, forcing himself inside his field of vision.

“You’re so tense, Iwa-chan,” he whispers, leaning down and planting a kiss right on Iwaizumi’s lips, only for a moment, before returning his attention to Iwaizumi’s neck, sliding his tongue over the area he bit before, the skin still sensitive, before he reaches Iwaizumi’s throat. Oikawa pulls his finger out slightly and Iwaizumi breathes in, this time prepared for the second finger pressed in with it,  _ not _ prepared for the twinge of pain when Oikawa pinches his nipple with his other hand. He twitches, turning his head to the side, and Oikawa moves his head, his lips on Iwaizumi’s jaw instead, sucking at it as he presses the two fingers inside slowly, stretching him open. 

“Hurry up,” Iwaizumi hisses, and he can  _ feel _ Oikawa’s smirk against his jaw before the tip of Oikawa’s tongue teases the skin under his ear and he nibbles at his jaw again.

“You’re not used to handing over the control, are you, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa hums, his voice low, right next to his ear, and Oikawa bites at the earlobe, just enough for it to hurt, before bowing his head down again and pressing his lips against Iwaizumi’s neck.

Oikawa’s other finger is still on his nipple, tracing a circle around it, and the second Iwaizumi lets down his guard, gets used to the sensation, Oikawa pinches it again, making him tense up all over again and he even feels himself tighten around Oikawa’s two fingers, completely inside now. He can feel Oikawa’s laughter against his neck before Oikawa kisses it sloppily before picking one spot to suck at, harshly. A voice inside Iwaizumi tells him to push him away, that it’ll leave a mark, but the second he raises his shoulder to nudge at him, Oikawa spreads his fingers inside him, making him gasp for air.

“I’ve wanted to wreck you for so long, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, lifting his head up and kissing the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth. Iwaizumi turns his face away and this time Oikawa does pull his hand away from his nipple, only to reach up and cup his face, forcing it back to its old position so he can press his tongue inside Iwaizumi’s mouth, still from the side, his tongue sliding over Iwaizumi’s teeth before he gives in and opens his mouth, letting Oikawa deepen the kiss.

“I can—I’m wready,” Iwaizumi tries to say with Oikawa’s tongue still pressed into his mouth, unable to pull away from the kiss, not really wanting to either, even though Oikawa is intentionally making it sloppier than necessary, probably just to annoy him further even in this situation. Oikawa stops, his fingers freezing inside him as he pulls back his head, smirking down at Iwaizumi.

“Are you sure you don't want another finger first? I wouldn’t want to break your fragile—”

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi interrupts him, instinctively pulling at his own arms to do  _ something, _ but the tug from the tie holding them tied up pulls him back into reality and when Oikawa sees his hesitation, he smirks again.

“So impatient,” he says, but he pulls out his fingers slowly, leaving Iwaizumi with an uncomfortable, empty feeling, a sensation he had forgotten about completely. Oikawa crawls back, positioning himself between Iwaizumi’s legs as he opens the condom and pulls down his own boxers, his cock completely hard even though he hadn’t paid it attention at all before, rolling the condom down over it with practiced ease. He grabs the lube again, using the hand with fingers already covered in it to smear it over his length, smirking down at Iwaizumi from where he’s kneeled above him. 

He situates himself between Iwaizumi’s legs again, grabbing his knees and pressing his legs further apart, smirking down at Iwaizumi when he meets resistance.

“Would you rather I do it from behind?” he asks, and Iwaizumi swallows, opening his mouth to answer before Oikawa leans down, his length pressed against the entrance, one hand covering Iwaizumi’s mouth, the other placed next to his face on the mattress for balance. “It was a rhetorical question, I want to watch your face,” he says, letting go of Iwaizumi’s mouth just as he presses the tip against Iwaizumi’s entrance, and Iwaizumi feels the slight resistance as the head presses past the rim, stretching him open, slowly, torturously slow, as Oikawa sinks in. 

Iwaizumi suddenly remembers to breathe in, inhaling deeply and finally relaxing again as the oxygen enters his system again, noticing Oikawa’s ragged breathing, his face completely focused above him as he presses into Iwaizumi, his body also slowly sinking down so their chests touch, holding up his weight on his elbow instead of his hand as he presses his lips against Iwaizumi, chastely for a second. 

Then he bottoms out, Oikawa completely buried inside Iwaizumi, and Oikawa’s mouth opens against Iwaizumi’s in a moan. Oikawa’s breathing is slow and forced, as if he’s doing everything in his power to keep still as Iwaizumi gets used to the sensation, completely filled up and stretched out. 

Just as Iwaizumi closes his eyes, opening his mouth to voice his approval, Oikawa pulls out just slightly, rolls his hips and thrust into him sharply, making Iwaizumi gasp into his mouth. Oikawa wastes no time, tilting his head slightly to the side, catching Iwaizumi’s lower lip between his teeth and bites down, just hard enough for it to hurt, and Iwaizumi hisses, turning his face away.

“You bastard,” he huffs, licking along his lip, trying to feel over the surface whether or not Oikawa made him bleed, but he’s relieved to know that isn’t the case.

Oikawa doesn’t really seem to care about Iwaizumi’s face being out of reach, instead bowing his head down to his neck and wasting no time, biting down at his flesh with the same strength, and Iwaizumi can almost feel his teeth leaving an entire o-shaped mark into his skin. Oikawa presses down his tongue, sucking at the skin as he thrusts in again, setting the tempo without asking Iwaizumi for directions, thrusting into him as he slides down his other hand to hold Iwaizumi’s hip still. Iwaizumi can  _ feel _ how pliant he grows under Oikawa, and he hates it, but all he can do is gasp for air as Oikawa fucks into him, slowly turning him into a writhing mess. 

Oikawa lifts his hand from Iwaizumi’s side to hook it under his knee, pressing it upwards and spreading his legs even further, tracing his tongue up against Iwaizumi’s throat before planting one tiny peck at his jawline, thrusting inside him from a new angle, nudging against his prostate. Iwaizumi’s back arches involuntarily, and Oikawa lifts his head in reaction, looking down at him with dark eyes, his look desirous, and he pulls out slightly again, only to thrust in from the same angle, earning another gasp from Iwaizumi. 

“Fuck, fuck,  _ Oikawa _ ,” Iwaizumi forces out between gritted teeth, turning to look up at him between gasps, his mouth forced agape as Oikawa continues to thrust into him forcefully, hitting  _ that _ spot over and over.

“Call me Tooru,” Oikawa whispers, licking his lips as he looks down at Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi shakes his head with renewed annoyance, anger flaring up in him.

“Fuck you,” he hisses, turning his face to the side, and Oikawa leans down to kiss him, pressing his lips open and humming into his mouth.

“Another time, love,” Oikawa whispers, pressing his tongue inside and licking against the backside of Iwaizumi’s upper row of teeth before Iwaizumi pulls his face away, looking up at him with furrowed eyes. Oikawa looks down at him again, smirk widening into that predatory one Iwaizumi  _ hates _ , and he pounds into Iwaizumi again, as if knowing  _ exactly _ the spot to hit, Iwaizumi crying out involuntarily in pleasure again.

Oikawa chuckles over him, raking his hand through Iwaizumi’s hair over his forehead, making Iwaizumi realize how covered in sweat he is. He’d feel weirder about it if it wasn’t for the fact that Oikawa’s face too was covered in a tiny layer of it, making his skin shine slightly.

The fact that Oikawa looks good -  _ amazing _ , actually - even like that, makes Iwaizumi even more pissed off. He purses his lip, raising his head slightly from the pillow as he collects enough saliva, aiming before spitting at Oikawa’s face, the tiny amount of spit hitting just at the corner of Oikawa’s mouth.

For a second, Oikawa freezes mid-thrust, staring down at Iwaizumi with wide eyes, as if too shocked to realise what’s going on. Then he lets go of Iwaizumi’s hair, lifting his hand to his mouth as he wipes off the spit at the corner of his mouth before pressing his finger into his mouth, sucking it off. Iwaizumi doesn’t even register the guttural sound escaping his throat before it’s out and Oikawa smirks in reply, thrusting into him again as he bares his teeth at Iwaizumi, leaning down to bite at his neck again. 

Iwaizumi grinds his hips upward, hoping for some friction for his cock between their bodies, but Oikawa arches his back upwards, making it impossible, leaving Iwaizumi twitching underneath him, desperate for  _ something _ to touch his cock. He pulls his arm downwards, the tie tightening around his wrists and holding him back, a low whine escaping his mouth as he shakes his arms slightly, as if hoping for the hold to loosen so he can free his arms.

Oikawa leans upwards to look down at him, a wry smirk on his lips. “Tsk, tsk, not yet, Iwa-chan,” he hums, leaning down and kissing Iwaizumi’s nose surprisingly gently before thrusting inside again, smiling against Iwaizumi’s skin when Iwaizumi gasps for air again.

“Fuck, harder,” Iwaizumi says, pressing his hips down against Oikawa’s cock, needing  _ more _ despite the already rigorous tempo, and Oikawa chuckles, grabbing at his shoulders again, his fingers digging into Iwaizumi’s skin so hard they’re probably going to leave marks.

“Say please, will you?” Oikawa says, trying to keep his voice as playful as before, but it’s raspier, deeper, and Iwaizumi knows he wants to speed up just as much as Iwaizumi wants him to.

“Fuck,” Iwaizumi just repeats, refusing to give in, and Oikawa fucking _slows down,_ reaching down under Iwaizumi’s thighs and grabbing them, spreading his legs further and holding them there, his fingers digging into the softer skin on the inside of Iwaizumi’s thighs, hard enough to bruise. Oikawa thrusts into him, long and torturously slow, and he tightens the muscles in his legs, hoping for them to _stop trembling_ when Oikawa was holding them, well aware that Oikawa had probably already noticed it. Oikawa keeps up the torturous tempo, instead channeling all of his fervour into assaulting Iwaizumi’s neck with tiny bites, sucking at them before blowing cold air at the sensitive skin, and Iwaizumi fucking needs _more_ , so he grits his teeth, begging himself for forgiveness as he whispers “ _please_ ,” just loud enough for Oikawa to hear.

“Sorry, what was that?” Oikawa asks anyway, his voice lighter, more controlled now that he had slowed down as well. Iwaizumi groans - a mix between exasperation and yearning for more, and he squeezes his eyes shut, breathing in.

“Please,” he repeats in an exhale, preparing himself for Oikawa to finally fucking get to it as Oikawa pulls out slowly, stopping before he does it entirely, and Iwaizumi can  _ feel _ his head leaned in over his face.

“Please what, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi opens his eyes, staring up at Oikawa’s horrible, saccharine and self-confident smile. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen when he realises what Oikawa asks for, but now Oikawa has completely stopped moving, barely the head of his cock still inside, and Iwaizumi  _ needs _ more, needs it now.

“Please me harder,” he says as he moves his legs, bowing his knees and hooking his ankles together behind Oikawa’s ass in an attempt at pressing him closer, lifting his own hips from the mattress in an attempt at meeting him halfway. Oikawa gapes in surprise, but then he complies, thrusting inside Iwaizumi deep and forceful, and Iwaizumi cries out as the head presses against and over his prostate before Oikawa sinks in completely, bottoming out again.

This time, Oikawa doesn’t take it slow. He rolls his hips again, pulling out slightly, not as much this time, only to thrust inside him with the same passion and strength, leaning his face down to the other side of Iwaizumi’s throat this time,  _ finally, _ sliding his tongue and grazing his teeth over the newly discovered, yet-to-be explored skin of the right side of Iwaizumi’s neck.

Oikawa does as promised, fucking Iwaizumi harder than he could ever imagine, and Iwaizumi bites his lip until he feels the blood drain away, pulling at the tie around his wrist again in an attempt at pulling his hand down to his mouth to bite that instead, anything to keep the tiny, shaky whimpers from escaping his mouth. He doesn’t succeed. 

Once again, Iwaizumi squeezes his eyes shut, the sensation  _ too much _ and still somehow not enough as Oikawa pounds into him while sucking at a tiny, sensitive spot on his neck, a low growl coming from Oikawa’s throat as Iwaizumi continues to try and stop whimpering, still not doing a very good job at it. He keeps his eyes shut, his eyes stinging slightly, his face burning and probably embarrassingly flushed, and a part of him hates himself for doing this, turning so pliant and weak under Oikawa’s touch, but another part of him just wants  _ more _ , and right now that part is winning. 

Oikawa pulls back from his throat, leaning in over him as he continues to thrust into him, and Iwaizumi can feel his eyes on him, so he opens his eyes slowly, looking up at Oikawa.

What he first sees is Oikawa’s expression, dark eyes, ravenous and just as wanting as Iwaizumi is feeling, if not more. Iwaizumi closes his eyes again, trying to breathe normally, his entire body vibrating, and he’s  _ so _ close, needs just a bit more to be pulled over the edge, but his mouth is refusing to obey his orders and speak up to demand it, possibly because part of him  _ knows _ that Oikawa is going to make him beg or deny him the chance of an orgasm for even longer, and he doesn’t  _ want _ to humiliate himself with asking if he doesn’t actually get what he needs.

Suddenly, Oikawa freezes above him and Iwaizumi opens his eyes slightly, squinting up at him.

“What?” he asks, uncomfortable under Oikawa’s piercing gaze, and Oikawa opens his mouth slightly, closing it again.

“What colour?”

“Green, why are you—” he begins, but Oikawa cuts him off, thrusting into him again and leaning down, pressing a wet kiss against the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth, moving his lips up his cheek to the corner of his eye, sliding the tip of his tongue over it, licking off the— _ Oh. _

Iwaizumi had fucking started tearing up.

“Oikawa—” Iwaizumi begins, blinking the tears out of his eyes, and Oikawa leans down again, pressing an actual kiss against his mouth this time.

“Tooru,” he corrects Iwaizumi as he pulls back, looking down at him with serious intent.

“I need—” Iwaizumi begins, ignoring Oikawa’s demand **,** but Oikawa slides a hand up, raking it through Iwaizumi’s sweat-damp hair, looking down at him again, eyes burning with longing, their noses pressed together before he speaks.

“Call me Tooru, and I’ll give it to you, I’ll give you whatever you need **,** ” Oikawa says, and Iwaizumi can  _ hear _ the strain in his voice, his attempt at keeping his tone somewhat controlled. And Iwaizumi closes his eyes, lifting his head slightly from the pillow as he presses his lips against Oikawa’s this time, leaning back again after deciding what to do. If Oikawa needs this one thing, just that, Iwaizumi can do it, too dizzy from constantly balancing at the edge of an orgasm without being able to reach it.

“Tooru, please,” he whispers, and Oikawa thrusts inside him again, the slapping sound of skin against skin the only reply as Oikawa’s hand slides down between them and he finally,  _ finally _ , touches Iwaizumi’s already throbbing cock, pumping at it as he continues to thrust inside him. 

Iwaizumi knows he isn’t going to last long, his legs barely holding around Oikawa’s hips, his arms shaking over his own head, and Oikawa needs no more than a few easy pumps, tighter at the shaft than the head, before Iwaizumi is pushed over the edge, dissolving into a puddle of pleasure as Oikawa  _ continues _ to pump his cock through it as the waves of ecstasy ripples through him, his entire body writhing and squirming as he tightens around Oikawa and Oikawa comes with a deep, hungered growl, continuing to pound into Iwaizumi, shallow and irregular, and Iwaizumi feels nothing but the sensation of Oikawa’s cock pulsing inside him, his hips jerking as Iwaizumi finally collapses, his entire body feeling limp and heavy as lead. 

Oikawa somehow has strength left in his body to keep from also landing on top of Iwaizumi with all of his weight, pressing his hands against the bed on each side of Iwaizumi’s face, the mattress sinking under his weight as he holds himself up, slowly and carefully pulling out. Iwaizumi winces, but the uncomfortable feeling is gone soon after Oikawa has pulled out completely, replaced with an even weirder sensation of emptiness, his entire lower body and ass still overly sensitive. 

Oikawa sits up between his legs, pulling off the condom and tying a knot on it before leaning in over Iwaizumi, once again kissing him on the lips, soft and gentle. 

Iwaizumi forces his eyes open, his body still vibrating like it’s halfway asleep, and Oikawa leans to the side, letting his body fall down on the mattress, lying on his side turned towards Iwaizumi. He reaches a hand up, combing it through Iwaizumi’s hair again and Iwaizumi is too tired to comment or complain, and - even worse - he actually sort of really likes how it feels.

“You’re so soft,” Oikawa hums, leaning down to kiss him again. This time Iwaizumi does grunt in displeasure, still too tired to argue, but wanting to make sure Oikawa knows he doesn’t see it as a compliment. “Your hair,” Oikawa hums, before pulling his hand down to Iwaizumi’s lips, sliding it over the line of his lower lip, smiling down at him, “your lips,” he adds, sitting up again and grabbing some wet wipes from the nightstand before crawling back between Iwaizumi’s legs, wiping off some of the come on Iwaizumi’s stomach before he bows down, pressing his lips against one of the spots he had digged his finger into when holding Iwaizumi’s thigh. “And your thighs,” he hums, sliding his tongue over carefully. 

He sits up again, focusing on properly cleaning Iwaizumi’s stomach and abdomen, his other hand sliding over the spots he had pressed his fingers into on Iwaizumi’s other thigh, making Iwaizumi suspect that he really did leave some bruises. 

“I could suck you off right now if you want,” Oikawa hums, looking down at Iwaizumi’s cock, licking his lips as if what he’s looking at isn’t a very limp and pink looking cock.

“No,” Iwaizumi forces out, shaking his head. He’s still too sensitive, his entire body exhausted, and all he wants to do is just curl up and sleep. Oikawa nods, crawling up next to Iwaizumi’s body on his knees, reaching up over his head and pulling at something. It’s not until the tie around his wrists loosens that he actually remembers the fact that his hands were tied up, and when Oikawa pulls off the tie completely, he stretches his arms in front of him, his muscles sore. Oikawa reaches down, grabbing one arm and massaging it softly, humming when Iwaizumi looks up at him in confusion.

“Stop looking at me like that, Iwa-chan, let me take care of you,” he says, and Iwaizumi would argue if he wasn’t still about to faint or if it didn’t feel  _ so damn good _ . After Oikawa is done massaging the other arm, both just shortly for the blood circulation to return, he gets up from the bed and turns to look at Iwaizumi, pulling the blanket over him after he shivers involuntarily. Then Oikawa turns around, leaving him alone under the warm cover in the bedroom as he walks into what Iwaizumi can see is the bathroom, keeping the door open as he turns on the water and pours up a glass of water.

Oikawa returns with the glass, pressing his hand against Iwaizumi’s shoulder to keep him lying when he tries to get up, raising the glass to Iwaizumi’s lips and letting him drink from it, his other hand reaching up and combing through Iwaizumi’s hair again, as if out of habit already, his touch as gentle as that of a lover. And that’s what sets Iwaizumi off.

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi says quickly as he turns his face away, unused to being  _ pampered _ like this, feeling slightly uncomfortable with it even though he knows it’s an important part of the whole thing. He’s too sluggish to care right now, but he has a feeling he’s not going to feel as good about this entire thing the morning after as he is right now.

“Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat, or?” Oikawa asks, putting the glass on the bedside table before sitting down next to him on the bed. Iwaizumi reaches out, hooking his fingers around his wrist as Oikawa moves his hand back, shaking his head and holding Oikawa’s hand there.

“Sleep,” Iwaizumi says, and in any other situation he’d probably be embarrassed at just how ineloquent his answer is, but right now he’s just  _ so tired _ and the bed is  _ so warm _ and all he wants is to just fucking sleep and have Oikawa turn the lights off and join him, preferably. Oikawa raises an eyebrow, but then he nods, reaching over and turning off the light before he lifts up the blanket, crawling in under it and joining Iwaizumi. “Mmh,” Iwaizumi hums in appreciation at the added warmth, too comfortable to even complain when Oikawa’s arm slowly slides over his waist as he crawls closer, pressing his chest against Iwaizumi’s back, his lips ghosting over Iwaizumi’s neck.

“Goodnight, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispers, so low that Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he’s just imagining it, and he drifts into a deep, comfortable sleep. 

 

Iwaizumi wakes up in an empty bed, the covers draped over his naked body, the temperature of the room neither too warm or too cold. He sits up slowly, grimacing at the slight headache pounding inside his head - could be worse, really - and scanning the room, his eyes landing on the suspiciously neatly folded pile of clothes on the chair next to the bed.

He remembers exactly where he is, and while part of him has an urge to either ruin or just ransack the entire apartment for Oikawa’s notes on the case, his instincts to run off before Oikawa returns win over him as he gets up, wincing at how sore his entire body feels, like he went through a really rough workout the night before. Of course, he remembers  _ exactly _ what happened last night and right now, his only option is to try and push away the thought, his cheeks already burning in shame, as he grabs his boxers and quickly pulls them own, grabbing his other clothes and getting dressed quickly, planning an escape in his mind. 

He tries to think back to what happened - he put down his bag the second they entered the apartment, so it should still be in the hallway right by the genkan, also next to his shoes and blazer. He walks over to the door, freezing when he hears the sound of footsteps, suddenly realising that the entire apartment smells like… breakfast. 

Oikawa hums absentmindedly in the kitchen, pans and kitchen appliances clattering with the kind of unavoidable noise cooking makes as Iwaizumi sneaks out of the bedroom as quietly as possibly, noticing to his chagrin that Oikawa’s kitchen and living room are one big area, the door in plain sight from Oikawa. And even worse, his briefcase is laying out on the dinner table, right next to the foods Oikawa is currently setting up. Iwaizumi takes a step back, well aware that it’ll be impossible for him to grab his briefcase and bolt before Oikawa notices him, but the step back was probably his biggest mistake as his food very unluckily treads on a creaky floorboard and Oikawa looks up at him from where he’s finishing something on a pan - eggs? - smiling brightly.

“Iwa-chan, good morning!” he says, too chirpy, and Iwaizumi groans in resignation, quickly walking over to his briefcase, grabbing the handle **.** “I made us breakfast,” Oikawa says, lifting his spatula and pointing out the obvious, but Iwaizumi just stares, pulling the briefcase down from the table. Oikawa’s smile is too bright, too  _ friendly, _ and Iwaizumi really just wants to disappear out of his sight before he actually talks him into staying and having breakfast with him.

“Yeah, sorry, I have to get home,” he says, and Oikawa laughs stiffly, shaking his head.

“Don’t be silly, it’s just breakfast,” Oikawa says, lifting the pan over to the table and putting it down, waving his hand at Iwaizumi like he’s joking.

“Can’t stay,” Iwaizumi simply says, walking past Oikawa towards the hallway and, after hearing Oikawa’s indignant gasp in reaction before some plates clatters around as Oikawa grabs something on the table while Iwaizumi puts on his shoes, he turns around to see Oikawa following him into the hallway, something in his hand.

“You’re really going to leave me after I just cooked you breakfast?” Oikawa asks, and Iwaizumi’s eyes focus on the thing in his hand - a croissant, covered in a napkin - realising that Oikawa knows very well that he’s going to leave. Iwaizumi loosens the collar of his shirt anyway, pulling it aside to show the skin on his neck, raising his chin to show just what marks Oikawa left on him, and even though he hasn’t actually seen himself in a mirror yet, his skin is sore enough for him to  _ know _ there are some bruises. Oikawa’s eyes widen at first before turning into a confident grin. He shrugs, walking over to Iwaizumi and leans up against the wall, watching Iwaizumi put on his blazer.

“At least take this with you, then?” he asks, taking a bite from the croissant before handing it over to Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow, watching as Oikawa smirks at him, the friendliness from his earlier smile completely gone. He accepts the croissant reluctantly, taking a bite and looking down at it in surprise, because it’s  _ good _ and he has no clue how to make it or if Oikawa went to the bakery or something before he woke up.

“Thanks,” he says before opening the door, stepping out of the apartment and turning around to close the door, giving Oikawa one last look, noticing Oikawa’s moping expression for a second before it switches back to the forced smile - is he shocked that Iwaizumi is leaving? Unused to his charm not working? Offended that he’s not accepting the breakfast? No, Iwaizumi refuses to believe that Oikawa didn’t actually count in the chance of him declining it; they’ve never been friendly with each other before, quite the opposite actually, so why start now? 

“No, thank  _ you _ ,” Oikawa corrects him after getting over the initial shock, walking over to the door and slowly lowering his eyes to Iwaizumi’s neck again. Iwaizumi suddenly regrets that he didn’t check the mirror before leaving, wondering if the marks are visible, but figuring that he can’t really do anything about that now.

“It wasn’t bad,” Iwaizumi replies as a last comment when Oikawa reaches out to close the door, and Oikawa looks up again, wide eyed and hopeful for a second, but then he forces up another smirk again.

“Don’t lie, it was amazing,” he says, and Iwaizumi just stares back at him, taking another bite from the croissant, raising an eyebrow when Oikawa doesn’t close the door. “I like when you call me Tooru and beg,” Oikawa adds casually, his smirk growing wider. This time Iwaizumi doesn’t have the patience to wait for him, turning around to leave, walking towards the elevator in quick strides, not looking back when Oikawa squawks his name after him. “Iwa-chan, I was kidding! Call me!” Oikawa yells after him as he enters the elevator, pressing the button to the ground floor before turning towards Oikawa, raising his middle finger towards him just as the doors close.

 

That same day, later in the afternoon, after Iwaizumi got home, got over the initial shame and shock, showered to try and cleanse himself of the sins, and then calmed down after seeing all of the marks Oikawa had left on his body, his phone rings as he sits in his office, slightly uncomfortable in the chair, his ass still kind of sore but not in an extremely unpleasant way.

Iwaizumi breathes in, accepting the call.

“I take it you’re not dropping the case?” he says, looking down at the papers in front of him that Oikawa’s team sent to him just a few hours earlier, and Oikawa laughs, light and faux-apologetic, on the other end of the line. 

“Sorry, Iwa-chan,” he says, and Iwaizumi shrugs nonchalantly - he isn’t even surprised that Oikawa lied - before remembering that Oikawa can’t actually see his reaction, but before he has a chance to voice his indifference, Oikawa continues speaking. “Me dropping the case would ruin what’s between us, create imbalance in our relationship,” Oikawa explains, chirpily, from the other end of the line, and Iwaizumi snorts, reaching out for his folder to start looking over his work again.

“There’s nothing between us,” he says, putting down the folder and grabbing his pen from his pocket, clicking it open.

“Sure, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says, not offended at all, chuckling into the phone. “By the way, I looked over your notes this morning, and I’ve also looked more into you, properly this time,” Oikawa adds. Iwaizumi frowns, trying to make sense of his words.

“Wait—you researched me?” he asks, remembering what Oikawa also said - he looked into his briefcase before he woke up? Iwaizumi feels anger rise in his chest, not exactly because the folder held any secrets, because it was the same folder he had tried to show Oikawa at their meeting when Oikawa had refused, but the fact that Oikawa had gone through his things without his approval still bugs him.

“You can win this, you know?” Oikawa says from the other end of the line, his tone suddenly switching over to something more serious. “You didn’t even need to fuck me for it, but maybe you knew that from the start,” he adds, his voice annoyingly playful again, and Iwaizumi’s hold around his pen tightens. He can practically  _ hear _ Oikawa’s smirk through the phone, but he’s sure Oikawa already knows that he didn’t just go home with him to make Oikawa lose the case. Not that he  _ likes _ Oikawa, but he wanted—what did he want? He was - well,  _ is _ \- attracted to Oikawa, but not in the traditional sense. More like a hatesex kind of way. Really good, kind of rough, very different than usual kind of hatesex.

He looks down at the folder, eyes widening at the newly added comments in red marker, realising that Oikawa hadn’t just gone through his notes but commented on them as well.

“I have to go,” Iwaizumi mumbles, the hand holding his phone slowly sinking from his ear, and he only just hears Oikawa’s chirpy goodbye before ending the call, leaning in to read the notes.

Oikawa’s additions are mostly just the red marker circling some of the arguments Iwaizumi has already written down, commenting on whether or not he should focus on them in court or put extra weight on. Iwaizumi is pleasantly surprised to see that they agree on pretty much everything - once again, angry that Oikawa is working against his conscience, but what surprises him the most is the yellow post-it note on the last page, also written in red marker, with a  _ ‘can’t wait until next time’ _ and a winky face drawn on it. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, pushing the folder away from him.

 

He wins the case. By some miracle, the gods are on his side, or, more importantly, the judge is. Iwaizumi seeks refuge in the courthouse bathroom after the congratulations are over with,  _ finally _ alone and able to breathe out properly. He stares at himself in the mirror, yet to fully accept the fact that they won the trial, despite Oikawa working against him and not slacking on the defense.

He’s exhausted and relieved, unsure of how to feel exactly, and the only coherent thought he can come up as he stares at himself in the mirror with is just a very simple ‘damn’, until the door to the bathroom opens and  _ he _ steps in. Oikawa walks up behind him, his steps quick and completely silent, an arrogant smirk on his lips, but Iwaizumi recognises the want in his eyes. Oikawa presses his back against him, sliding his hand over Iwaizumi’s blazer and hooking a finger between two buttons on his shirt, touching the skin on his chest.

“Let’s celebrate your win, Iwa-chan! Drinks on me,” he says, leaning in and resting his chin on Iwaizumi’s shoulder. Iwaizumi tries to shake him off, but with the hand around his shoulder and on his chest it doesn’t do much, and it’s not like he actually used enough strength for it to be effective anyway. Part of him doesn’t  _ want _ to pull away.

“No,” he says anyway, keeping his tone cold. 

Oikawa tilts his head over, pressing his nose against Iwaizumi’s throat, right over the collar of his shirt. “Iwa-chan, if you really knew what’s good for you, you’d know that being my rival/competitor isn’t a good position to be in,” Oikawa says, as if reprimanding him, leaning his face back slightly to look up at Iwaizumi’s face. Iwaizumi breathes in, attempting to discreetly swallow the lump in his throat. “Partners, though…” Oikawa hums, leaning in again and pressing his teeth against Iwaizumi’s neck again, only just hard enough for him to feel the sensation, not at all close enough to be painful or leave a mark. Simply a reminder of that night. Iwaizumi stares into the mirror in front of him, watching as Oikawa pulls back his hand from under his shirt, sliding a business card into his blazer pocket before pulling back, giving him one last smile in the mirror as he turns away, leaving the bathroom.

Iwaizumi exhales again, this time even deeper than after he finally escaped the courtroom with the case settled in his favour, pulling the card out of his pocket.

It’s not a businesscard, he notes as the first thing. It’s the visit card of some bar in the skyscraper district, one that he has heard of but never visited. One near Oikawa’s apartment. In the corner, Oikawa has written a tiny message, a  _ ‘tonight at 9’  _ with  _ another _ fucking winky face drawn next to it, written with the same red marker as his notes in Iwaizumi’s folder.

Iwaizumi couldn’t dream of giving in to this man just like that, but he realises that there are smarter ways of fighting him than trying to ignore him completely. He has to play the game if he actually wants to win it. And frankly, Oikawa wasn’t lying when he said the sex had been amazing. Iwaizumi doesn’t need to like the guy to enjoy  _ that _ part. In fact, maybe the nature of their relationship is exactly the reason it’s so exciting. And exciting is exactly what he wants right now. He has won the case, and he wants to show Oikawa that he can take control in different ways as well. Oikawa had hinted at not minding if Iwaizumi wants to do just that with him either, and Iwaizumi has already decided to take him up on his offer.

Iwaizumi puts the card back into his pocket, leaving the restroom and heading home to prepare for the night. Oikawa isn’t the only one who can play this game. Oikawa isn’t the one who’s going to win this game.

**Author's Note:**

> i tried! and then i was like oh no i cant have oikawa actually dropping the case now, that'd be so unsexy?? my competitive side speaking?? anyway yeah idk one day in many years they will, like oikawa said, become partners in their own law firm :') a modern romance  
> since im probably going to have to actually work on my exams now im not sure i’m gonna post as much over the next few days, at least over the weekend i’ll probably try to take a break bc it’s double xp time in ovw \o/  
> wait fuck i wanted to do an fhq thing but. uh. ignoring that. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed, and thank you so much to the people who take time to comment, I Would Die For You


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